A Queer Story of Love in Varanasi

In his latest exhibition, A Thousand Years of Dreaming at Emami Art, artist Debashish Paul weaves together an evocative collection of performance stills, drawings, and sculptures to explore themes of queer identity, desire, and marginalization—centered around his film Hazaro Saalon ka Sapna,. Each medium in Paul's multifaceted body of work contributes uniquely to the exhibition's narrative, reflecting the intricate layers of queer experience and emotion.

Paul’s dramatic performance stills immerse viewers in a dreamlike world, creating a visual and emotional escape into a realm where hidden desires and dreams manifest. These elements, combined with sculptural costumes and photography, form a cohesive vision that captures the essence of queer imaginative life, portraying a profound longing for acceptance and transformation.

In this interview, Paul delves into how his art addresses the marginalization faced by queer individuals, particularly those from small-town settings, and how masks and costumes symbolize both concealment and revelation.

The body of work includes performance stills, drawings, and sculptures. How do these different mediums work together to convey the themes of your exhibition, and what unique perspectives does each medium bring to the narrative?
Each medium in my exhibition plays a distinct role in conveying the complex layers of identity, desire, and marginalization that underpin my work. The performance-based film and performance stills are very dramatic and cinematic, helping the audience transcend to another world, creating a dreamscape. The combination of sculptural costume, performance, video, and photography weaves a tapestry that assists in the realization of hidden desires or dreams. Through each medium, I indulge in my concealed desires and dreams, with each becoming a new land where queer imaginative life finds a tangible form. The sculptural costumes create a new character, a fantastical being, who, though appearing as a creature from another world, represents the desire to live freely in this society, showing a new bodily transformation with the wish for societal acceptance.

The performance stills seem to stand with dreams that have been waiting for thousands of years, giving an imagination of a new world and awaiting a rebirth. The excessively heavy sculptural costumes carry the weight of a thousand years of sorrow, pain, and dreams, yet they are not hopeless; flowers of hope continue to bloom on their bodies, awaiting a new dawn. My drawings also have a sculptural quality. The process of each of my mediums is very performative. When I draw, I feel as if I am writing a poem with my body—drawing is like the tapestry of the poem of my skin. The layers of each medium come together to create a tapestry of dreams, desires, and pain, and together, all these mediums in the exhibition will form a tapestry where the audience can explore a thousand years of queer dreams, pain, desire, and empathy through a performative nature.

In what ways does your work address the marginalization and stigma faced by queer individuals in small-town settings? How does this setting influence the portrayal of queer desires and relationships in your art?
I spent my childhood in a small village in Fulia/Phulia, where I faced various kinds of insults from my friends and neighbours due to my gentle demeanour, starting from my school life. As I grew older, I witnessed how society despises queer people. I have always felt as if I carry the pain of a thousand years of queer suffering within my body. Before I started studying in Banaras, I had no queer friends because Banaras is a very homophobic city where no one reveals their queer identity. After learning about a gay dating app in 2022, I made queer friends in Banaras and shared their sorrows and experiences. They all fear revealing their identities. I also met my boyfriend through a gay dating app. Our relationship feels like we are living in an imaginary world because I don't know what the future holds for us. We both came from villages to study in the city, and we may never be able to disclose our sexual identities to our families. Neither of our families knows about our relationship. Now, both of us are facing pressure from our families to get married because, in India, family bonds are very strong, and families tend to dominate their children. This is the same problem faced by all queer people in India, especially those living in villages. In my show, I have depicted the dream of queer marriage, a dream that queer people have been holding onto for a thousand years.

Mask and costume play a significant role in your work. How do these elements symbolize the concealment and revelation of queer identities, and what do they represent?
Mask and costume in my work symbolize my internal body and face, revealing the desires of the soul. These elements represent the growth of queer fluidity in India, with the layers and heaviness of the sculptural costumes embodying the thousand years of pain and dreams carried by queer people. The costumes are deeply influenced by the colors of Varanasi, temple gods' attire, and mythological figures, helping me to imagine new characters and identities. Hindu mythology, particularly the stories of gods like Shiva and Krishna and their transformations, plays a significant role in my work, inspiring me to create new identities free from societal constraints.

Wearing these sculptural costumes is an unforgettable experience, as they make me feel like I am embodying who I truly am inside. However, this also brings back childhood fears of being taunted for behaving like a girl. Despite these fears, I am determined to explore this medium, using it to express my identity as a queer and non-binary person. For me, these sculptural dresses are reflections of the inner body, capturing its joys, pain, and fragments. Through the unfolding and folding of the materials, I am discovering and embracing my queer identity.

Additionally, I am exploring how to find and express a queer identity that resonates with our village culture, rituals, and myths. I am searching for ways in which future village queer fashion can evolve, allowing queer people to fully enjoy and express their fluidity within the context of our cultural heritage.

“When I first wore a dress, I suddenly felt like who I was inside, and at the same time, the childhood fear of being taunted for walking or talking like a girl came back to me. It’s as if I am finding my queer body through the unfolding and folding of the materials.”

You use materials traditionally associated with devotional sculptures and adornment in your work. How does repurposing these materials as symbols for marginalized beings alter their meaning and function within your art?
My materials come from my surroundings. I live in Varanasi, so every day, I visit temples, ghats, and the local market, which is full of ritual materials used by pilgrims in temples. The colors of these materials help me celebrate my inner body colors, and these natural mediums and colorful materials connect through tradition and nature. Most of the materials come from local crafts, which greatly influence me. These materials carry the cultural history of thousands of years. My strong belief in rituals and culture makes me feel that these cultural activities will help purify the body and create a new queer identity according to our culture. I am deeply influenced by our mythology, and the costumes and fluidity of Hindu gods inspire me greatly. I always aim to create a body that aligns with the space for societal acceptance, and the quality of the materials enhances the internal fluidity of the body.

Tell me about the setting of Varanasi that you use and how does it blend history and mythology with your contemporary interpretations?
Varanasi is the main pillar of my inspiration. It is from Varanasi that I began my first performance. The Ganges River, which has flowed for thousands of years, along with the ancient temples and the walls of the ghats, take me back to the old histories from where the journey of self-discovery begins. Standing on the ghats, watching the reddish hue of dawn rise over the river, fills me with dreams of a new future. The myths and stories that surround Varanasi help me to be reborn in a new way, as these ancient tales fuel the creation of an imaginative dream world. The bells of the temples, which have been ringing for thousands of years, seem to carry on into a distant future, resonating in the deepest parts of my consciousness, creating a sensation as if a distant sound is emerging from my body, expressing my soul's desires. The endless horizon blending into the night sky above the ghats feels as if this body is merging with the infinite, just like the eternal union of Ardhanarishvara, continuing through eternity within this body.